


Corellian Home

by Astronut



Series: Ripples AU [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronut/pseuds/Astronut
Summary: What would the galaxy be like if a certain X-wing pilot hadn't joined the Rebellion?  First in a series of one-shots in an Alternate Universe spawned from the Legends Universe.Han Solo looks for a home.





	Corellian Home

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the Jedi Council Forums in 2006 for an Extreme AU Challenge. 
> 
> Please do not repost without permission.

Corellian Home

Patience was supposed to be a virtue. It kept Jedi on course, prevented wars, and helped younglings everywhere sit still during the droning of their instructors. It was not, however, a theory Han Solo abided by. 

As the Quarren in front of him droned on about the advantages of sub-surface viewing rooms, Han tapped his foot and ran his fingers over the raised scar on his left hand. He figured it was mildly more polite than stroking his blaster’s trigger. 

Of course, he _had_ to be polite. Her worship’s orders. Of course, that hadn’t always stopped him in the past, but he did truly want to please Leia. _And this is for all of us._

Finally resigning himself to the idea that Leia would forever be at the beck and call of the New Republic, he had agreed with her that they need a home. One more permanent than the bunk on the _Falcon _or the luxury suite in the _Stellar Reef Hotel_ that the Council had given Leia. Much of Mon Calamari had been destroyed by the World Devastators, leaving few existing choices. So the hunt had begun. Bids came in from architects all over the galaxy, vying for the chance to build the home of the woman who would likely be the next President of the Republic. _And with them came the headaches. _

It had started with the architectural style. Han had figured a building was a building, and as long as it had a place to park the _Falcon_ and tuck in the kids, it really didn’t matter what it looked like. Leia had wanted a Calamari style abode, to match the majority of the structures on this world; with smooth, elegant lines and natural grace. But when the first blueprints had arrived mentioning water locks and humidifiers, Han had commented that he was raising children, not tomorrow’s catch of the day. That had earned him a place on the couch for a week. 

But the comment had bothered Leia, and she began to look into an Alderaanian style home. Han had agreed, pleased to listen to Leia re-visit childhood memories of stately homes that blended into Alderaan; becoming part of the planet without harming a single blade of grass. It wasn’t until after a call from Winter on Anoth, that Han had realized their home could never be Alderaanian. It had been a simple daily call, allowing parents and children to know each other, if only from a few exchanged words and smiling glances. The twins had learned to levitate objects; creating a lovely mosaic on their bedroom ceiling with their color sticks. Winter had punished the twins, but had allowed their master piece to stay. Han was an indulging parent but knew that coloring on walls of white alaba would earn a stricter punishment than a timeout and a missed desert. He could never force his children to reside in a living piece of art they could never make their own. 

Knowing that Leia, Jedi patience or not, was quickly becoming frazzled at his refusal to pick a design, he had volunteered to find an architect. Now he was stuck listing to candidate after candidate buzz, click, or blather about advantages of one design or another while Leia was probably sitting on the Council, listening to similar blathering on how best to wrest Thyferra from the Isard and the Empire. 

Han dismissed the Quarren with his best “Thank you for coming,” but had to result to waving his blaster when the Quarren refused to take the hint. Wishing devoutly he could take that same blaster to his own skull, he let the next candidate in. 

“General Solo, it’s a pleasure to meet you”

“It’s no longer General, it’s just Solo,” Han replied gruffly, hand still on his blaster. 

“Very well, Captain. I was a bit nervous meeting the infamous General Solo, so I brought a bit of fortification. Care for some?” 

_What on Kessel was this guy on? _Accepting the flask with stunned look, he took a long draught, figuring if it was poison it would at least put him out of his misery. Instead, he found himself enjoying the smooth, nutty flavor of Whyren’s Reserve. _Corellian_ Whiskey. Handing the flask back and inviting the man to sit down, a much more relaxed Han grinned. _This guy certainly makes an interesting first impression._

The man was shorter than Han; shorter than average, truth be told. Long dark hair was gathered at the back of his neck by a simple chord. His outfit appeared to be chosen on comfort, with loose slacks and tunic, but it looked sharp to the undiscerning eye. Youthful brown eyes danced in a face that was only beginning to show crinkles near the eyes. Han figured that he couldn’t be much older than Luke. 

Deciding to be blunt, Han asked, “So, what lovely Neo-Imperialist baroque façade building are you going to try and waste my time with?” 

A laugh, and then, “What I’ve got here is a three step program for creating an Organa-Solo home.” 

“Really,’” Han drawled. “And what’s step one?”

“It’s already in your gut. Can’t have a customer shooting me already.” Han blinked, but before he could respond, the architect continued. “Step two is showing you the difference between a building with sleeping quarters and a home.” 

The man wasted no words showing Han the layout. A lavish entry hall and dining room. A smaller, intimate eating area in the kitchen for family. An office with a view of the starry sky. Three rooms for the children with an adjoining play area. A master bedroom overlooking the rolling sea. Escape tunnels from each bedroom leading to hanger built into the rock below. 

It was the small details that impressed Han. The hanger was big enough to fit the _Falcon_ and a single X-Wing. The third story bedrooms had ceilings high enough for even Chewbacca. A myriad of ports and charging stations around the house would suit Threepio and Artoo. Even a small padded room near the hanger perfect for Jedi training. It was functional as well as stunning. 

A sloppy, Corellian grin had slowly overtaken Han’s face during the holo tour. _This is the one_. “So, what’s step three?” Han asked when the tour was over.

“Step three: We build it.” A roguish grin of his own had crept onto his face. 

Han laughed. “So Mister Chief-Architect-to-the-Solo-family, do I have a name to send all these credit vouchers to?”

“Wedge Antilles of Gus Treta Construction, sir. Our company motto fits your family perfectly, so we thought you might like my designs.” 

“And what motto is that?”

“We build it, you break it.”


End file.
